Fable
by Clio S.S
Summary: A random story on Masamune and Yukimura. Nothing happy this time, but still soppy.


It was just one of the battles Date Masamune had fought so far and was yet to fight. Some of them had ended in victory, while some others with defeat. There had been also some that had remained undecided - like this one. Perhaps, taking into consideration the fact they had been outnumbered by the enemy, he should consider it to be a success that they had managed to leave the battlefield with so few casualties - but he couldn't look that way yet. Every soldier he lost cast a shadow on his pride of a commander, and it didn't matter if there were five, fifteen or fifty of them. He hadn't learned yet to think only of their duty that they fulfilled dying a heroic death of a warrior.

In fact, his army had managed to escape almost unharmed, especially when compared with the fate of the allies of Kai. He clenched his fists, unable to control his emotions fully, although his face remained stony. Takeda Shingen, The Tiger of Kai, whom only few could equal in fame and who had seemed immortal, had fallen under the enemy's strike and hadn't risen any more. Only an exceptional loyalty to their lord and unusual orderliness, combined with grief and sorrow, had let the army of Kai hold back the frenzied charge of an enemy, inflict the serious damage on it and leave the battlefield with honour, carrying away growing numb body of the great warrior.

The Tiger of Kai had breathed his last two days later - today at dawn. Date army had returned home only the previous evening. For the whole night they had fought for the life of wounded; the dead had to wait for the burial yet.

The Lord of Ōshū left the hospital wing and made his way towards Katakura Kojūrō's quarters. He gritted his teeth as he walked along the corridor. Kojūrō was seriously wounded, but his life wasn't in danger any more. Masamune didn't even want to consider what would happen if the bullet had hit a bit higher...

He slid the door open and rested himself against the frame, looking at his companion. Kojūrō was lying on the bed, he seemed to sleep, and Masamune didn't intend to wake him. That moment, however, Kojūrō, vigilant even when bedridden, opened his eyes and tilted his head, looking at the commander.

"When are you going to start wearing an armour, Kojūrō?" Masamune asked, his voice reproachful.

"I beg your pardon, Masamune-sama," was the calm answer. "It fits you better"

"We're not talking about some fucking fashion, Kojūrō," Masamune felt frustration filling him. "When will you get it into your head that next time you may be not so lucky?"

"You don't have to worry about me, Masamune-sama. I'm going to be fine."

Katakura Kojūrō's composure could make even Date Masamune's blood boil. "Kojūrō..." he started with a note of threat.

"By the way... Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" Kojūrō asked, his tone indifferent yet respectful.

Masamune sighed. "There's no-doubt who I inherited my stubbornness from," he muttered to himself.

Kojūrō smiled. "I don't deserve such words, Masamune-sama," he spoke, looking at the ceiling.

"I grew out of fairy tales already, so stop charming me. You're not indestructible, Kojūrō," Masamune added in a lower voice, almost desperate.

Kojūrō looked at him again, this time very seriously. "Thank you, Masamune-sama," he said, his voice ringing with gratitude.

Masamune sighed again. "I'd rather see you in armour during our next battle," he stated, still dissatisfied.

"You don't believe in fairy tales, yet you sulk like a brat," Kojūrō commented in a very casual tone, looking at the ceiling again.

The Lord of Ōshū pouted. "I'll remember it, Kojūrō," he declared in a warning voice. "Rest now," he added and left, sliding the door behind.

He felt relieved.

Not he made his way to someone who was yet to feel relieved.

* * *

Yukimura arrived at Ōshū around the midday and, his voice emotionless, informed about the death of his lord. Masamune didn't expect to feel so shocked - not due to the message itself but the way it was announced. Empty stare, pale lips and this lifeless voice - it wasn't Sanada Yukimura he had known. It was someone who Date Masamune didn't dare to approach. He ordered to serve him a meal and prepare the bath, and then he fled - fled! - to his people. It was much easier to look at the wounded. They were alive; their groans of pain that no herbs could soothe were full of life. Yukimura seemed a shadow, a ghost walking along the living.

Masamune grabbed a bottle of sake.

_"Shouldn't you be somewhere else?"_

Of course, Kojūrō was always right.

* * *

Thus, he was with Yukimura when Yukimura was swilling the infinite amount of sake.

He was with Yukimura, dodging the cups and bottles.

He was with Yukimura when alcohol was violently leaving the young one's stomach.

He was with Yukimura when the boy had no strength any more and curled on the mat, shaken with sobs.

* * *

"I should have protected him. He was like a father to me. I should have been by his side."

He sat up, looking at Masamune for the first time and wiped his eyes, that had run out of tears long ago.

"I'm worthless."

Masamune drew near and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Yukimura leaned against him and lowered his head. He was like a child. Yet another orphan.

"Once upon a time," Lord of Ōshū started in a low voice, "in the North, there ruled a powerful daimyō. As it often happens in fairy tales, with envy his neighbours looked at his land and his wealth. One day, taking advantage of daimyō's benevolence, they kidnapped him from his castle, trying to take his land in such a low way. A son of daimyō left then with the army to free his father, but he was too weak and the only he could do was to give an order to attack the enemy..." He fell silent, listening to the wind that hummed in the branches of spruces behind the window. "He still doesn't know whether his father didn't die from his hands," he added in a whisper.

He felt something wet on his eyelashes and was surprised.

Yukimura raised his head hesitantly and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. Masamune blinked and looked away. Unsure, Yukimura reached and covered the hand resting on his arm, squeezing it as in a gesture of comfort.

Masamune buried the face in his hair, embracing him tighter. He swallowed down the self-contempt for such a weakness.

"Thank you, Masamune-dono."

"I'm not telling you to stop feeling guilty," the lord of Ōshū whispered, his eyes still shut, "but to learn how to live with it. And remember that you're only human."

"And be happy with the people that are close," Yukimura added as quietly. Masamune looked at him with gratitude. "I'll see Katakura-dono," Yukimura said. "Then I'll leave back to Kai."

Masamune nodded. "We'll come to pay last respects to the Tiger of Kai," he declared. Yukimura wiped his eyes away. "And then... if you like... come back to Ōshū with us."

Yukimura's lips trembled... and then widened with a shy yet happy smile. "I will," he decided, his eyes flashing with life.

Masamune smiled.

* * *

He felt peaceful at the thought that the doors of Ōshū would always be open for Sanada Yukimura.


End file.
